I want to write a parody/humor fic about my playthrough of Pokemon Platinum, so here it is! It verges into crossover territory, as characters from other things will appear.

Summary: Mary is forced to become a trainer, and with her best friend at her side, she reluctantly tries to become a champion. What sorts of hilarity will happen? Rated PG-13.

Okay, never mind. I really do update whenever. However, I'll try to post at least eight chapters this month do to a writing challenge I'm doing.

Prologue: Journeys, My Arch-Nemesis! (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?573338-Not-Another-Adventure%21&p=14609647#post14609647)
Chapter 1: That's One Way To Do It (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?573338-Not-Another-Adventure%21&p=14613991#post14613991)
Chapter 2: Strange Encounters With Even Stranger People (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?573338-Not-Another-Adventure%21&p=14624918#post14624918)
Chapter 3: Where Do I Buy Dork Repellent? (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?573338-Not-Another-Adventure!&p=14644201#post14644201)
Chapter 4: Who Says You Can't Go Home? I Do! (http://www.serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?573338-Not-Another-Adventure!&p=14670126#post14670126)

PM List: Rotomknight

Not another Adventure!

Prologue: Journeys, My Arch-Nemesis!

And I say “another” adventure because my mom insists that moving to Sinnoh was an adventure. Yes, the Sinnoh Region, which I personally think should be renamed to the “Freeze-Your-***-Off” Region. But hey, I actually like the cold. So no sweat there.

However, the snow and ice does get old when you live in the world’s smallest town, also known as Twinleaf Town, population a whopping ten people. Yeah, you heard me, ten people. The only thing in my “town” is four houses and a dirt road. I suppose Twinleaf Town is a residential area just off of Sandgem Town—like a suburb or something. Or maybe people tried to make a resort town near Lake Verity like the one near Lake Valor, and it ended up as a commercial flop.

Believe me when I say there’s nothing else. If anyone needs anything, they have to go to Sandgem Town. Sure, it’s only about a couple of miles away, but it does get old. How hard is it to set up a store in Twinleaf Town?

Anyways, long story short, I think Twinleaf Town sucks.

*~x_A desu-ish line break!x_~*

Okay, so I’m sitting in my room when all of a sudden my mom calls me. I go downstairs and see that there’s a flyer on the kitchen table, and I think I know what the flyer’s about. It’s July (not that you can tell by the weather) and I’m going to turn fourteen in September. Oh great. Oh great oh great oh great.

I know exactly what Mom’s trying to pull.

“I’m not fourteen yet,” I say as I pull a chair out and sit down. “If you’re gonna force me to go on this stupid journey, you’ll have to wait a year. September isn’t cutting it close enough.”

Mom just smiles. “It’s okay! I’m sure they’ll understand. Anyways, don’t you want to go on a journey? Aren’t you interested in Pokémon?”

“Nope.” You heard me. Not every kid in Sinnoh wants to be a Pokémon trainer. Adventures and journeys don’t appeal to me at all. I’d rather do something else in my life, like improve Twinleaf Town. I have an idea for the place. I’ll set up a store—no, not a store, a full-fledged mall in the town! And instead of visiting the department store in Veilstone, people will visit the mall in Twinleaf. And then I’ll become a tycoon or something!

“If you become a trainer, you don’t have to go to school anymore!”

“I’d rather go to school than go on a journey. Besides, I haven’t even gone to the Trainer’s School,” I continue. “I’m not qualified to be a trainer.”

Mom points to something on the flyer. “The Trainer’s School is offering a ‘crash course in training’ for people who haven’t gone there.”

What?! I feel trapped! How the hell am I supposed to get out of this one? I guess I’ll have to stick to my argument. “I don’t want to be a trainer,” I say. “And journeys? No way. If you’re gonna make me work with Pokémon, at least let me do Pokémon control or something. Those rabid Bidoofs are monsters, I tell ya! Monsters!” I wish I was making that up. But when you see someone mauled by a pack of those rabid rodents in front of your very eyes . . . let’s just say I’m lucky I didn’t go crazy.

Mom replies with a piece of advice that’s been drilled into my head by her and my best friend: “you don’t know until you try!”

I seriously, seriously hate it when people tell me that. Some people just don’t understand that being a trainer isn’t for everyone. Neither do these people understand that not every kid is obsessed with Pokémon. After growing up with those creatures around, you kinda just dismiss them as everyday occurrences, which they are.

“Don’t wanna know, don’t wanna try,” I mumble, grabbing the flyer. The discussion’s getting old, so I get up and leave. There are important things to do . . . like watch TV or play video games. You know, typical summer stuff that doesn’t involve adventures.

As I go down the hall, I crumple up the flyer and toss it in the trash. Hopefully, that’s the end of that.

Half an hour after my little discussion with Mom, I’m up in my room with a cup of coffee watching TV. There’s nothing good on. Just a bunch of televised battles, old reruns, and the news. Seeing as it’s the only new thing on, I decide to watch the news.

There’s something important-looking on: apparently, Professor Rowan, Sinnoh’s local Pokémon professor, has returned to Sinnoh. All authority to license new trainers and give away starter Pokémon now belongs to him, not the Trainer’s School. Due to this, the Trainer’s School Giveaway has been cancelled.

Great! That puts an end to the trainer BS Mom and I were arguing over.

At least, that’s what I think, but then I hear the sounds of the door opening and someone running upstairs. There’s only one person in Twinleaf Town who’d do that (out of all ten of us). I turn around. The person standing there has black hair, glasses, and a shirt with a green skull . . . ish thing on it. Yeah, that’s my best friend, Jake.

“Hey, did you hear about Professor Rowan being back?” he asks in that weird accent of his. It’s definitely not one from any of the regions.

“Yeah, why?”

“He’s a Pokémon professor, so I bet if we ask him, he’ll give us a Pokémon! And we can finally be trainers!” Jake’s the exact opposite of me in that area. He loves adventures and I hate them. So why are we best friends? Well, Jake’s the only person around my age in Twinleaf Town. Sure, I could have befriended people who weren’t my age, but sometimes it’s kinda hard to chat up an old guy about video games and the other things I like.

“Not interested,” I mumble, flipping through the channels. Adventure Time’s on, so I watch that. Of course, Jake has to make a comment about it to prove his point.

“You like adventure shows and video games, so why do you hate adventures in real life?” he asks.

“Because it doesn’t happen in real life! I’m not actually gonna have to save princesses from the Ice King or anything! Your Pokémon adventure-y thing actually happens, and you can actually be ripped apart by wild Pokémon! Remember the rule?”

For those of you who don’t live in Sinnoh, ever since a solo trainer was ripped apart by wild Pokémon three years ago, there’s a rule that trainers must travel in groups of two or more. Of course, Jake’s been trying his hardest to make me his travel partner. He’s failing miserably at it.

“Dammit, Mary! Why don’t you want to be a trainer?”

“I’m gonna be a mall tycoon, didn’t you get the memo?” I ask. “That has nothing to do with being a trainer. Nothing. Go get one of your buddies from the Trainer School to go on a journey with you.”

That’s it? That’s his big idea? “Not if I have to be a trainer,” I reply.

Jake frowns. “Aw, come on! Please?”

He jumps in front of the TV, and I shove him aside. “Dude, what are you trying to do, annoy me to death?”

“Well—aha! If you become a trainer, you get tons of money from winning battles! You’ll get enough money to start your mall that way, especially if you beat the champion!”

Oh! That actually sounds extremely intriguing to me. Become a trainer: get rich quick! And if it doesn’t work out, I can just quit. Nobody ever said that trainers have to train Pokémon until they die. And if all my Pokémon die . . . okay, now it’s just getting morbid. Never mind.

“You got me there . . .” I say grudgingly. “Let’s get going to Sandgem before I change my mind.”

“Sweet!” Jake dashes down the stairs before I can even move. I sigh and turn off the TV. It’s going to be a long day.

“Jake already left. Going somewhere?” Mom asks.

“Yeah, I’m going to Sandgem with Jake,” I reply. “We’re gonna see Professor Rowan and get some Pokémon from him.”

“Stay out of the tall grass,” Mom says. “Wild Pokémon might attack you.” That’s it?! After the big deal she’s made out of me becoming a trainer, all she says when I finally come around to it is “Stay out of the tall grass”?! Come on! Where’s the squeeing? Where’s the mega glomps? Where’s the gifts? Lame.

“Yeah, bye,” I say. I head to the entrance to Route 201, but Jake isn’t there. I guess he’s back at his house or something, so I head there. When I arrive after taking like ten steps, I just let myself in. In the Sinnoh Region, locking your doors is rare, and only rich privileged people do that. Knocking on doors is almost unheard of.

When I do go in, I run smack into Jake. “What took you so long? I—wait!” He runs back upstairs, and I sigh, following him. Jake grabs a notebook and puts it . . . seemingly nowhere, notices me, and says, “Oh, hey! I’ll meet you on the road!” I sidestep before he can accidentally tackle me down the stairs. I go downstairs and notice that Jake’s standing at the door.

“What’s u—” There’s something in the doorway, a small brown creature that looks like a cross between a beaver and a mouse. Nothing too surprising, or so I think. Then, I notice the foam dripping from its mouth. Rabid Bidoof!

I decide to be really helpful—I start flailing around yelling, “Oh ****!” That incident where I saw someone being mauled by those rabid Pokémon scarred me for life. Seeing a rabid Bidoof . . . Somehow, I don’t wet myself, which is pretty much pure luck.

While I’m busy freaking out, Jake actually does something. He draws his pistol and fires, and suddenly the Bidoof’s face isn’t there anymore. “Hey Mary . . .” He turns around and sees me sitting in a chair and shaking. I’m pretty sure he thinks I caught rabies. How? My mouth isn’t foaming. “What do we do with this thing?” he asks. “We can’t leave it here, it’s contaminating my house!”

“Uh . . .” I shakily get up and walk outside, taking exaggerated care not to step on the dead Bidoof. A rake leans on the wall, and I take it and start shoving the Bidoof away. “Let’s dump it in the pond.” Using the rake, I push the Bidoof to the pond on the other side of Twinleaf Town. With one final push, the Bidoof falls in the water. I guess he’s Magikarp food now. Rabid Magikarps don’t seem like a big deal, but rabid Gyarados . . . Nah, I don’t think I want to go back to Twinleaf Town anymore.

“I did it!” I call out, jogging back to Jake’s house. “Uh . . . you might wanna wash this rake,” I say, giving it back to Jake. “It has rake rabies on it.”

Jake chucks the rake into the trees. “Who cares about rake rabies? We’re going to be trainers!” With that, he dashes for Route 201.

As I leave the house and walk down the dirt road, I take a minute to look around at Twinleaf Town. Starting today, it will no longer be my home. After I get my Pokémon and trainer’s license, I’ll have to live in Pokémon centers and maybe even on the road. I won’t be alone, though, I’ll have my best friend and our superpowered animals with me.

The things I’ll do to be a mall tycoon. . . .

I take one more look at the town—just four wood houses in a clearing in a forest full of rabid Pokémon. Never mind what I said before. I have to come back and fix this place . . . or at least make it into a proper town, or I’ll have gone on a stupid adventure for nothing.

Jake’s waiting for me on the road, staring at the tall grass. “There you are!” he exclaims when he sees me. “Let’s get going to the professor’s!”

“But of course we do! Don’t you remember this?” Jake pulls his pistols out. “And anyways, I have an idea for avoiding wild Pokémon. You know how they jump out from tall grass? Well, if we keep moving fast enough, they won’t catch us and we’ll reach Sandgem Town without running into any Pokémon!”

Okay, I’ve heard some shitty ideas, but Jake’s suggestion takes the cake. Wild Pokémon are more likely to attack you when you run because the noise and movement attracts them! “Jake, you idiot! Don’t—” Too late. Jake’s already running for it. Right before he can run into the tall grass, however, someone calls out “Hold it!” and he freezes.

An old man in a white dress shirt, a blue vest, and blue slacks is walking towards us from the direction of the lake. I recognize him, and how can anybody growing up near Sandgem—or anywhere in Sinnoh, for that matter—not? The old man approaching us is none other than Professor Rowan.

“You two don’t appear to have any Pokémon between you,” he says gruffly, “so what is the meaning of going into the tall grass?”

Jake squeaks and replies, “Th – that’s why we’re going to Sandgem! So we can get Pokémon of our own!”

“Hmm . . .” the old man muses, staring at the lake. “They ran into the tall grass because they wanted Pokémon . . . their lives would surely change once they got them. Is it right for me to put them on this path?” Waitwha? Why’s Professor Rowan talking about us like we’re not ever here?

“Well, then forget about me, but give a Pokémon to my friend!” Jake exclaims. Huh?! Being a trainer means a lot to him! What’s he trying to pull? “I mean, it was my idea to run into the grass.”

Professor Rowan clears his throat and looks at us again. “How big of you . . . Very well then. You two! You truly love Pokémon, don’t you?” Jake looks at me, and I’m sure he’d say something like “You’re the leader, you talk first.”

Now, I know what everyone’s thinking. I’m probably gonna say no, right? Wrong! I don’t hate Pokémon, I hate adventures. Besides, this is obviously some kind of character test. So I say, “yes”.

“Me too!” Jake chimes in. “I love Pokémon, too!”

Rowan just . . . regards us for a while. “I will ask you again. You truly love Pokémon, don’t you?” Look who just saw through my ruse.

Suddenly, a familiar looking kid runs in lugging a briefcase behind him. “Professor Rowan! You left your briefcase at the lake!”

“Good work, Lucas.” Oh, that’s why he looks so familiar! Lucas used to go to my (non-training) school, but then he got transferred to the Trainer’s School after securing a job at the professor’s lab, which is just as well. Everyone at my school (including me) made fun of him for being a dork. It’s hard to recognize him because his dorky haircut’s covered by an (equally dorky) red hat.

“Hey, Lucas! How’s it going?” Jake calls.

“What are you doing here, Dork-O?” I say. Obviously, Jake and I have had completely opposite experiences with the professor’s assistant.

“What I was about to do is entrust these young people with Pokémon,” Rowan continues.

Lucas doesn’t take too well to that. “What? Those Pokémon are crucial! Do you really want to give them away?” Well, obviously he does, since he just said that. But I digress. I don’t think anyone wants to hear more about my ugly opinions of Lucas.

“Lucas, there is a time when everyone should meet Pokémon. For these two—” he gestures to me and Jake “—it is today. Go on,” he says kindly. “Open the briefcase and choose a Pokémon.”

“Oh man! I’m so excited I can’t keep a straight face!” Jake says. It’s true. He’s grinning so much I think his face is gonna split open or something. “You pick first, Mary. Hey, I’m almost an adult. I should show some class!”

“Ha!” I say, because I know this trick. Jake’s letting me pick first so he can choose a Pokémon with an advantage over mine. “Thanks, Jake.” I kneel down and open the briefcase.

Inside, there are three Poké Balls. My hand hovers over them in indecision. Which one am I supposed to pick? They’re labeled with “Turtwig”, “Chimchar”, and “Piplup”, so I know what they are, but I’m not hesitating because of that. As soon as I touch a Poké Ball, a new world’s going to open up—one that I’ve been shunning. Maybe I should just run back home. And let Jake down and embarrass myself in front of Sinnoh’s biggest dork? No! I can’t do it!

Before I can chicken out, I shut my eyes and grab a Poké Ball.

Author's Note: The rival, Jake, is pretty much Jake English. Because that's who I was thinking of when I named my rival. Not Another Adventure's verging into crossover territory, folks.

Rabid pokemon, pistols, and dorky lucas. This is very funny when you kept talking about rabies "oh you better get rid of this rake, it has rabies" so funny. Great story, keep it up!

Kiyuni

28th May 2012, 10:38 PM

Rabid pokemon, pistols, and dorky lucas. This is very funny when you kept talking about rabies "oh you better get rid of this rake, it has rabies" so funny. Great story, keep it up!

Thank you! I have a feeling that rabid Bidoofs/ rabid Pokemon in general are going to turn into a running gag.

Kiyuni

31st May 2012, 5:17 AM

Chapter 2: Strange Encounters With Even Stranger People

When I open my eyes, the first thing I do is look at the briefcase. There are Poké Balls near the “Turtwig” and “Chimchar” labels, but the one for Piplup is missing.

Jake kneels down and grabs Turtwig’s ball. “Then I choose you! I’m picking this Turtwig!” Called it. I just knew he would pick the Pokémon with the type advantage over mine.

“You two chose well,” the professor says. “Now listen up! The Pokémon you two have are new to the world. In that regard, they’re very much like you. As fellow newcomers to the world, I hope you do well together.” Touching advice. No, really. “And now, I must leave. Be sure to come to my lab in Sandgem to get your trainer’s licenses. Lucas?”

“Of course!” His boss leaves, and Lucas follows him, pushing past us with a “Sorry, folks.” He trips and falls as he passes, something that has absolutely nothing to the fact that I stuck my foot out.

“Well, what do you know . . . the professor’s actually pretty nice. On TV, he seems so stern and scary,” Jake observes. He turns to me with a sly grin. “I’ve always wanted to say this . . .” He whips his Poké Ball out in what I think is supposed to be a dramatic fashion. “The time has finally come! Mary! I challenge you to a battle!” He hurls the Poké Ball at the ground, narrowly missing his feet. “Turtwig, I choose you!”

With a lot more reservation, I casually drop my ball on the ground. “Piplup . . . do something.”

The two materialize in front of us—a blue penguin and a green turtle with a sapling on its head facing each other off. “Attack!” I scream, not really knowing what to tell Piplup to do. Only huge nerds look up Pokémon attacks beforehand like—

“Use Withdraw!”

--Like Jake. Turtwig slides into its shell, and Piplup slams into it. The attack seems to hurt the Turtwig, but I’m betting it would have done more damage if the turtle Pokémon was out of its shell.

After this, an extremely one-sided battle commences. Piplup keeps slamming into Turtwig, who just keeps in its shell. As time passes, Piplup gets more and more tired. Finally, it stops and stoops over, panting.

“Now! Tackle it!” Jake commands. Aw, crap. I just lost the battle.

With surprising speed, Turtwig’s head and legs come out of its shell. The turtle then leaps and tackles my Piplup, knocking it over. For a split second, it lies there, and I hold my breath, wondering if it’s going to get up. Adrenaline rushes through me, even though it’s Piplup and not me who’s in trouble. It reminds me . . . it reminds me of how I feel when my character’s about to die in a video game. Kinda desperate. So that’s how I try to see the situation as: a video game.

“I wi—” Jake starts to say, but then I see Piplup getting up.

“Nu-uh!” I reply, pointing at my Piplup. A memory from a battle I saw on TV comes back to me. Grass-types might have an advantage over Water-types, but when it comes to Flying-types . . . “Peck it!” I command Piplup. “Don’t let up until Turtwig goes down!”

With a shrill cry, Piplup flies at Turtwig, its beak glowing with white light. Piplup repeatedly pecks Turtwig’s face, leaving all sorts of gashes. “Withdraw!” Jake yells. Unfortunately for Jake, Turtwigs aren’t known for their speed, and his faints before it can do any withdrawing. No, the only withdrawing done is by me and Jake: we return our Pokémon to their Poké Balls.

“Whoa, that was a pretty sweet last stand,” Jake says. “Oh yeah, since you won the battle, I better give you this.” He reaches into the pocket of his khaki shorts and pulls out some cash. I take it and stuff it in my own pocket.

That’s right, I won the battle. A strange little wave of joy washes over me. “You almost had me back there,” I say, wanting to return the compliment. “I was pretty sure Turtwig was going to win.”

Okay, so I was wrong. I would be going back to Twinleaf Town again. Shrugging, I head back home.

*~x_A desu-ish line break!x_~*

“So that’s what happened to you,” Mom says after I recount the story to her. “It’s a good thing Professor Rowan came. If he didn’t . . . I don’t want to imagine what the wild Pokémon would have done to you. Especially the rabid Bidoofs.”

“Actually, we ran into a rabid Bidoof when we were leaving Jake’s house,” I say. “We took care of it, though. Jake shot it and I dumped in the lake. I might have given a rake rabies, though. Say sorry to Jake’s grandma for me, ‘kay?”

“. . . you gave a rake rabies?” Mom asks. “You know, sometimes I worry about you. . . . That’s not important, though. You should go to Professor Rowan’s and thank him properly for giving you that Piplup. Oh, I know something that can help!” She reaches under the table and pulls out a pair of running shoes and a slip of paper. “These are running shoes,” Mom explains. “Press the B button to run!” Did she just say what I think she said?

“I don’t know, it was on the instructions.” Mom hands me the paper, and sure enough, it instructs you to press the B button.

“Meh, must have been high when they made this,” I say dismissively, tugging my shoes off and replacing them with the running shoes. “All right, bye!” I run out the door. Those shoes must have some weird technology in them, because they allow me to run faster than I can normally. That, or I’m running faster because these shoes are designed for running, while my normal canvas shoes are designed for . . . well, whatever it is, it’s not running.

I go back to Route 201 and come across one Jake English. “You again?” I ask. “We’re not travel partners yet, so quit stalking me! Who knows, maybe Rowan will put you with Dork-O.”

If Jake heard any of that, he’s not replying to it. “Well, I was heading to Sandgem to thank the professor when I had a great idea! You know that legendary Pokémon that lives in Lake Verity? We should catch it and give it to Professor Rowan!”

I roll my eyes. Jake’s been a fountain of horrible ideas today. “Yeah, whatever.” We’re probably gonna fail, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Okay, maybe it will. The Legendary Pokémon might be pissed and maul us, but hey, it can’t be worse than getting mauled by rabid Bidoofs. “Let’s get going already. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

This time, we head towards the lake, which is in the opposite direction from the road to Sandgem. Lake Verity is just a few yards away, separated from the route by a line of trees. Near its entrance, there’s a sign talking about the legendary Pokémon (a creature named Mesprit) and such.

“All right, get ready because we’re capturing the legendary Pokémon!” Jake has his Poké Ball ready in his hand—like a young Turtwig and Piplup can do anything to a purportedly godly creature. “Trust me, it’s here. It even says so on the sign! Unless, of course, the Pokémon’s some made-up ******** engineered to create more tourism.” Yeah, Jake, that’s what I think, too.

We pass through a gap in the trees and emerge at the lakefront. The first thing I notice is that we’re not alone. A man with spiky blue hair stands in a patch of tall grass at the shore, his back turned to us. He’s saying something in a voice I think is extremely imposing.

“The flowing time . . . the expanding space . . . I will make it mine someday.” Okay, that’s just creepy. Who stands around at lakes talking about their plans to take over the universe? Apparently, this guy does. “Cyrus is my name. Remember it.” Okay then, mental note made: creepy guy talking to lakes is named Cyrus. “For now, sleep while you can, legendary Pokémon of the lake . . .” Cyrus turns and heads towards us. “Allow me to pass,” he says. “Step aside.” Jake and I glance at each other and scoot away from the entrance, letting this weird guy Cyrus through.

“What was that?” Jake asks. “Crazy guy . . .”

Suddenly, an unearthly wail reverberates through the area. It’s chilling and haunting and surprisingly, extremely familiar. I know the wail from somewhere, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Well, with how creepy it is, I don’t think I want to put my finger on it.

Meanwhile, Jake’s jumping around like an excited little kid. He needs to chill, seriously. Hey, maybe I can push him into the lake . . . no, the last time I did that, he was kidnapped by a Psyduck. Anyways, with all his jumping around, Jake will probably fall in the lake by himself.

“Did you hear that? It was the legendary Pokémon’s cry! Come on, we have to catch i—” Jake digs through his pockets as if searching for something. “****! We don’t have any Poké Balls! If we don’t have those, we can’t catch any Pokémon. Hey, do you think the professor will give us Poké Balls if we ask him?”

“I dunno, Jake,” I reply. “I mean, they sell Poké Balls at all the Poké Marts. He’ll probably just tell us to buy some. Then again, we’re just a bunch of noobs. He might give us a starter pack or something.”

“True. Well, there’s only one way to find out, and that’s by going to the professor’s lab.” Jake takes out his Poké Ball again. He throws it on the ground and releases his Turtwig again. Why? Does he want to battle again? Because I don’t. I’m still not too keen on all this trainer business.

“Sorry, dude, but I don’t want to battle again,” I say. I can’t help but smirk and add, “Besides, since we battled an hour ago, it’s gonna end the same way. My Piplup has more experience from winning that battle, too.”

Jake pulls out one of his pistols and pretends to shoot me with it. “Shut up. Besides, I’m taking my Pokémon out to defend us from the wild Pokémon.”

Oh. “Then I guess I better take my Piplup out.” I release my Pokémon and we head for the road again. For some reason, having two Pokémon out with us makes me feel safer, even though they’re small and young. Then again, it could be because I’m travelling with Jake, who always has his pistols on him. Of course, shooting wild Pokémon might be illegal. I don’t really know if there’s anything like a People for the Ethical Treatment of Pokémon here in Sinnoh. I’m pretty sure there’s a similar organization in Unova, though, and that those guys are a bit fanatical (a bit?! Try “a lot”).

Nothing much bothers us, as we take care to move through the tall grass quietly. However, Turtwig and Piplup stumble over a Starly chilling in the grass, which of course enrages it.

“Use Tackle!” Jake commands.

I don’t know what Piplup can do, so I just say, “Fight!”

“Oh, just so you know, your Piplup should at least know the moves Pound and Growl,” Jake tells me. Thanks for the help, I guess, but does he have to be so high and mighty about it?

“I managed just fine without knowing the attacks last battle, English,” I say snidely.

“Oh, so we’re on last name basis, now? Fine, Rodriguez!” At this rate, we’ll never be efficient travel partners. So I decide to be the bigger and better person (like that’s hard) and apologize.

“Sorry,” I say. “We’re supposed to help each other out, not argue. Thanks for telling me what moves Piplup knows. I’d probably look like a total tard in, say, an official Gym battle if I just kept screaming ‘Attack!’”

Jake doesn’t reply to that. Smart kid.

“So, what do you say we get this battle going?” I ask. Since our little argument, we haven’t been paying much attention to the battle. It’s not going too well. The Starly is swooping at Turtwig and Piplup, scattering them. Our Pokémon are running around like crazy.

“Piplup, Pound!” Whoa, when did we order a side of alliteration with our moves?

Our Pokémon leap at the Starly, who (thankfully) is in low flight so it can attack. Turtwig and Piplup are able to reach it, I’m sure, but they collide into each other and fall into the grass.

“Get up, Piplup!” I call out. “I’m sure you’re still good!” Piplup probably just has the wind knocked out of it. Probably.

I get more than I bargained for. Piplup doesn’t just get out of the grass, it rockets out! It slams into Starly, who has been flying around and chirruping in what I suppose is a victory cry. You cried too early, Starly. The startled bird Pokémon drops like a rock, and Turtwig leaps on it. Piplup joins in, too, and they play king-of-the-hill for a little bit.

“Stop, guys!” I yell. That Starly’s surely fainted, and I don’t want those Pokémon rights fanatics on our backs. Unfortunately, it’s a no-go. Apparently, Turtwig and Piplup think it’s some kind of game. I have to resort to recalling Piplup back to its Poké Ball.

Jake does the same with his Turtwig, then reaches in his pocket for one of his guns. “Should I . . .”

“No!” I yell, kicking his hand away . . . or at least trying to. Unfortunately, my aim’s a little off, and my foot catches him square in the crotch. Jake makes a weird wheezing sound and falls right on top of the Starly. Oh, Arceus! I guess I should feel sorry for Jake, but it’s too hilarious!

“Sorry, dude!” I exclaim. It isn’t very convincing since I’m laughing. “Here, let me help you up.” I grab Jake’s arm and pull him up.

“Never. Do. That. Again,” Jake gasps.

“Come on,” I reply, dragging him along. “We’re almost to Sandgem. Our Pokémon aren’t doing to well on the battling front, so we should hurry before we get swarmed.”

Jake, who hasn’t really regained full control of his speech, just nods.

The rest of the trip to Sandgem Town is uneventful. Professor Rowan’s lab right at the entrance to Route 201, so we can’t get too lost. However, I do a double-take when I see who’s waiting for us on the road.

“Quit stalking us, Dork-O,” I snap, pushing past Lucas. “I know you want a piece of Jake here, but he isn’t in the best condition.”

I step into the Pokémon Research Lab, and I hope nobody notices how nervous I am.

Note to self: stay away from Cyrus, he's crazy and talks to lakes. My favourite part of this chapter was when her mum said "press the B button to run!", "whats the B button?". Some very funny in game simularities. Great job :)

Rotomknight

31st May 2012, 10:43 PM

PLease do more things about game-real gags.
PLease add me to the pm list

Kiyuni

1st June 2012, 1:59 AM

PLease do more things about game-real gags.
PLease add me to the pm list

Don't worry about me running out of game-based gags anytime soon! For now, this is the only way for me to flesh out the story. You are added to the list, by the way.

Also, this song parody . . . thing (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUp0APTGfrg) reminds me of Jake. It makes more sense if you actually know about the character (and not my version of him).

Kiyuni

4th June 2012, 4:39 AM

Sorry, guys, I'm kinda slacking with this fic. I slipped off my every other day editing schedule!

Chapter 3: Where Do I Buy Dork Repellent?

“There you two are,” says Professor Rowan once he sees us. “I was beginning to think you two would never arrive.”

Oh, that can be explained easily. It involves lunatics who talk to lakes. I seriously think that Cyrus regularly goes down to Lake Verity, caresses the water, and says, “Oh Mesprit, you are my only friend.” I’m not in a position to make fun of him, though, since my only friend is Jake. But I can still do it!

“Oh, we went to the lake and met a crazy guy,” I say. “We could have said hi, but he was too busy talking to the legendary Pokémon to notice us.”

“Anyways, I sent Lucas out to meet you. What happened to him?”

“Well, my friend here’s not too fond of Dork-O—er, Lucas,” Jake explains. “He found us, but she ditched him rather quickly.”

“Ah, but never mind,” the professor says. “What’s important is that you two are here. You are Mary and Jake, correct? Let’s have a look at your Pokémon.”

Jake and I quickly release our Pokémon in the lab. Turtwig and Piplup look at Professor Rowan expectantly, recognizing their old owner. However, when Lucas comes in, the two of them jump all over him.

“Stop it, guys!” the assistant yells, falling to the floor. “I don’t have any food on me. You guys have new trainers now, Mary and Jake!” Surprisingly, the Pokémon recognize our names. Turtwig jumps into Jake’s arms and Piplup casually sidles over to me and pulls the leg of my jeans.

“I see,” Rowan muses. “Those Pokémon seem rather happy with you. Entrusting you two with those Pokémon was no mistake, it seems! Well, would you like to nickname your Pokémon?”

“No thanks,” Jake says.

I nickname my Piplup, though, giving it the unoriginal name of Empress since I’m pretty sure it’s a girl. If it’s a boy Piplup, then I guess it’ll just be ironic.

“And you’re happy with that nickname?” Professor Rowan asks. I nod. “When I saw you two about to step into the tall grass without Pokémon, I was shocked. How could anyone be so stupid as to go into the grass without any form of defense? But now, you’ve astounded me in a new way. There’s already a bond growing between you two and your Pokémon.” Okay, that’s something else. Am I the Pokémon whisperer now or something? “I feel privileged to have met you. I’m sure Piplup and Turtwig feel the same way. All I ask is for you two to cherish your Pokémon.”

“Boy, I’m glad you guys are kind toward Pokémon,” Lucas interjects. “If you weren’t . . .” He shivers. “I don’t even want to think about it.” What? Will he call Team Plasma so they can fly all the way over from Unova to Sinnoh and beat us up?

“Well, then! Let’s move on to the main topic,” the professor says. “I have a favor to ask of you two. Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name, as you already know, is Rowan. I study Pokémon.” You don’t say! “First of all, I want to know exactly what kinds of Pokémon live in the Sinnoh region.” There must be hundreds of Pokémon. How can one old man research them all?

“To do so, it is necessary to collect data using the Pokédex. That’s where you come in, Jake and Mary. I want to entrust you with these Pokédexes. Will you two use them to record data on all the Pokémon in Sinnoh for me?

“Of course!” Jake replies without hesitation.

I just shrug. “Sure, it can’t me that bad.”

“Good answer!” Rowan hands us the Pokédexes, two machines that look a lot like handheld video game systems, complete with a camera. “That Pokédex is a very high-tech device. It will automatically record data on every kind of Pokémon you encounter.” Good, I don’t need to straight-up do fieldwork or anything. “Mary, Jake, I ask that you go everywhere and meet every kind of Pokémon in this region!”

Once again, Dork-O adds a useless anecdote. “I have the same kind of Pokédex as you.”

Rowan asks, “When you walked up Route 201 with your Pokémon, what did you feel?” I recall the peculiar feeling of safety I had on the road when Piplup was with me. “I’ve lived for sixty long years. Even now, I get a thrill when I’m with a Pokémon. Now, you should know there are countless Pokémon in this world. That means there are just as many thrills waiting for you out there! Now go! Your grand adventure begins right now!” Yeesh, “adventure”. Don’t remind me.

“The professor asked me to help, so I’m filling the Pokédex pages, too. That makes us comrades working toward the same goal. I’ll teach you stuff later, okay?” Wonderful. I just can’t wait to be schooled by Sinnoh’s biggest dork. Luckily for both of us, Lucas leaves before he can get a fist in the face.

“I’ll have you know that the Pokédex has more features than recording data on Pokémon,” Rowan says. “It is the ultimate tool for trainers! Do you see the scanner on the front?” I close the Pokédex lid, staring at the lens that I had thought was a camera.

“Oh, you mean this camera . . . thing,” I say, tapping it.

“Yes. You can scan a Pokémon with it to record its data in the Pokédex. However, it will be basic information—the Pokémon’s name, and where and when it appears. To know more things about the Pokémon like its size, weight, and even some information about its habits, you have to capture it and scan its Poké Ball.” Well, that’s cool.

“Scanning one of your Poké Balls can also give you its status,” Rowan continues. “It measures your Pokémon’s power and calculates its strength and how healthy it is. It even provides an estimated level for its power.” Estimated power levels? Oh, so it’s like a video game! Pokémon training: all the fun of a video game, all the risk of real life. What’s not to love?

“What’s this?” Jake asks. He’s looking at the bottom of his Pokédex, so I turn mine over and study it. There’s some kind of slot on it. What is that? Some kind of credit card slot? Maybe there are apps you can use on the Pokédex, which I think would be awesome. Who doesn’t want to play games on their Pokédex?

“It’s a slot for you trainer card,” Rowan says. Oh right, our licenses, which we don’t have. “Speaking of trainer cards, we should get you some, should we not?” He walks over to one wall of the lab where a computer with a webcam on it is set up. “Stand in front of here, please.”

We proceed to get our pictures for the trainer card taken. Jake pulls his patented “double pistols and a wink” thing. I try to smile, which is hard when I remember that I’m being forced on an adventure. It isn’t long when two plastic cards with information for “ENGLISH, JAKE” and “RODRIGUEZ, MARY” pop out of the computer.

I don’t even want to know how Professor Rowan has our information.

I put my trainer card in the Pokédex slot, and all the info on the card pops up on the screen. It also shows how many badges I have, which is to say none.

“Are we done yet?” I ask.

“All right, that is all. You two are free to go,” the professor replies.

I leave first, throwing open the lab’s door. Unfortunately, Lucas is outside waiting for us. They sell Pokémon repellent at the Poké Mart. Why can’t they sell dork repellent, too? And if someone actually invented dork repellent, where can I get it? Arceus knows I need it.

Anyways, I’m so pissed I throw the door closed. I probably hit Jake, but right now, I don’t care. “I said quit stalking us, Dork-O,” I hiss. Jake opens the door and steps out beside me.

Besides being a dork, Lucas must be deaf, as he acts like I didn’t say anything. “Hi! Let me show you around—”

“MARY! JAKE!” Holy crap, the professor is loud. We turn around and find him holding two disc cases. “I thought these would be useful, so here you are. This is a Technical Machine, TM for short. You can use it to teach a move to a Pokémon. However, this TM breaks after use, so choose wisely. My last wish before I send you off is that your journey will be fun.” Fat chance, Rowan. But I appreciate the sentiment.

I stare at the disc case. It’s labeled “TM 27: Return”. On the front, there’s also an image of a Pikachu slamming into a Bulbasaur with blue stars coming off the impact site. I flip the case over. On the back, it says, “A full-power attack that grows more powerful the more the user likes its trainer”. Huh, interesting. How can a move be a friendship meter?

Jake has a different question. “How do TMs work?”

“I don’t really know,” I reply. “They’re CDs, so maybe you put them in a computer or DVD player and it plays a video that teaches the Pokémon how to use a move. But if that works, why can only one Pokémon use it? More than one of them can watch it. And the TM breaks after use. Must be a flimsy piece of ****, then.” Whoa, wait. I just realized something. If we watch the video, can we learn a move like that, too? I ask Jake that.

He replies, “I don’t think so. We don’t have the same elemental aptitude Pokémon do. Certain moves can only be taught to some kinds of Pokémon, which is similar. But maybe we can use Normal-type moves . . .”

“Whoa,” Lucas breathes. “The professor has TMs?” Leave it to a total dork (Jake doesn’t count) to talk about the least interesting thing we went over. “Next thing we know, he’ll tell me he battled when he was young.” Big surprise, considering about seventy-five percent of people in Sinnoh are trainers. “Anyways, I’m going to show you around some. Follow me!”

We walk up to a large building with an orange roof that I instantly recognize as a Pokémon Center. “This is a Pokémon Center,” Lucas says. “They’ll heal your Pokémon for free.” Does he think we’re total noobs or something? Come on, he knows I went to school in Sandgem! And Jake went to the Trainer’s School! He can probably name and describe all the trainer facilities in his sleep, for Arceus’ sake! “Just look for the red roof.”

Lucas just gives a small chuckle. “So it is . . . moving on!” He leads us to a blue building with the sign “Poké Mart” up front. “This is a Poké Mart,” he explains, which is again useless because of the aforementioned sign. “They sell all kinds of useful stuff for trainers. Since you two are just starting out, you won’t be able to buy much, but don’t worry about it, okay?” Of course I’m not worrying; I don’t really plan to buy stuff. I still want to build a mall near Twinleaf, which is sure to be really expensive. It’s best to start saving up now.

“I’ll be leaving now,” Lucas says. Thank Arceus. “Before you guys go on a big journey like this . . . it’s best to let your family know.” “It’s best”? More like “I better let my mom know or she’ll kill me next time I come home”.

Lucas leaves with one final piece of advice: “But first, heal up your Pokémon at the Pokémon Center. You’ll feel safer that way.”

I shrug and head towards the Pokémon Center. Nobody’s around to see that I’ve actually taken the dork’s advice. The glass doors slide open, and I walk straight into a huge crowd. Relatively speaking, this isn’t bad. Now, the Pokémon Center in Sinnoh’s capital, Hearthome City . . . I’ve been there before (my mom does some contests there sometimes) and there are literally people lined up around the block to get in there.

Anyways, the healing machine doesn’t take long; it’s just that a lot of people need to use it. In no time at all, I’m at the counter. The nurse takes Piplup’s Poké Ball, puts it in the machine, and presses a button. The entire thing lights up briefly, and then the Poké Ball is given back to me.

“Thanks,” I say, turning to leave.

“We hope to see you again!” says the nurse. What? It’s like a cancer patient leaving after treatment and the doctor telling him, “I hope you get cancer again!” I don’t care who you are, that’s jacked up.

I exit the Pokémon Center and stare at Piplup’s Poké Ball—oh, right, I nicknamed her Empress. On a whim, I dig my Pokédex out of my pocket and scan it. Species: Piplup. Gender: Female. Nickname: Empress. Original Trainer: Mary. Moves currently known: Pound, Growl, and Peck.

A dialog box pops up onscreen: Calculate stats? I press “no”. I don’t really care about stats right now. Leave that geeky **** for Lucas, or even Jake for that matter.

As I walk home, I realize one thing: I was being way too melodramatic when I left Twinleaf Town to try to get a Pokémon.

Author's Note: I don't really know right now. In Platinum, I failed while I was being preoccupied with writing this and accidentally nicknamed my PIPLUP Piplup (with correct capitalization). Oh well, the Name Rater exists for a reason.

I’ll say this for Twinleaf Town: it hasn’t changed much in the couple of hours I’ve been gone. That’s good for me—I’ll make this town yet. But for now, I hate it, since it’s still in its “mentally retarded suburb of Sandgem” phase. Same four houses. Same teeth marks in the walls where rabid Bidoofs have attacked. Same—okay, you get it right? Because describing everything is boring, especially when you’re describing something that is inherently boring.

I reach my house. Okay, it’s now or never. I open the door and walk in. Mom’s sitting at the coffee table watching contests on TV as usual. “Hey Mom,” I call out. “I’m gonna go try to become the League Champion.” I say it as casually as I’d say, “I’m going to Jake’s house to watch a movie.” Of course, both things can turn out extremely horribly. Like Jake’s movies—some of them don’t even come near B-movie status. I affectionately dub those abominations F-movies. Guess what the “F” stands for.

Mom sips her coffee. “That’s great, dear.” Oh. My hunch was right. Kids going on Pokémon journeys really is so average that nobody really gives a **** anymore. Mom looks up at me. “No, I mean it. That’s wonderful! You’re going on a journey . . . enjoy it! As long as you’re happy, I’m happy too.” Ugh. Stuff like that . . . it makes me feel like a spoiled brat who throws a fit because her parents got her the wrong fancy sports car or something. I swear, Mom does it on purpose.

“Sure, Mom,” I say weakly.

“Be sure to stop by home once in a while, okay? And take this!” Mom shoves a spiral notebook in my hands, and I open it. It’s my old math notes. Random doodles line the margins. At the sight of it, I have to smile a little. If there’s one thing I won’t miss, it’s math.

“And why would I need this?” I ask. “I mean, it’s not like random people are gonna pop out and make us take geometry tests. . . .”

Mom just laughs, though I can’t tell if it’s because of my math question or if it’s because a Ditto’s doing a crazy Professor Oak impersonation on the TV. “I’m not giving it to you because of the notes, I’m giving it to you so you have something to write in. Use it as a travel journal or something. Who knows? If you really become the champion, then you can publish it as a memoir.”

I smirk. “Hell yeah! When I’m a mall tycoon, I’ll publish this thing and everyone will know all the crap I had to go through to be one.”

“You do that, sweetie. Oh, how about you take a little break? I’m sure you’re a little overwhelmed by everything that’s happened today.”

That seems like a great idea, so I dash upstairs into my room. First, I better prepare myself for a journey. I open my closet and fish out a bright green backpack—yeah, it’s Adventure Time memorabilia. Who cares? It’s something I can put stuff in. I also grab a navy blue scarf and tie it around my neck. This is the Sinnoh region, after all.

I return downstairs, and Mom wishes me good luck. I reply, “Sure . . . now can I—”

“Nope,” I reply. “He probably ran ahead and is at Jubilife already or something.”

“Oh,” replies Jake’s grandma. She pulls out a small cardboard box. “I wanted to give this to him.”

“Mary will do it!” Mom chimes in. “Won’t you?” Wait, what?

“Uh . . . sure?” I reply, taking the package. “If I can find him again. Who knows, maybe he has his first badge already. Bye, everyone! If I don’t come back, something probably killed me, okay?”

On that happy note, I leave the house. And back we go again to Sandgem Town. This is getting old. If I have anything to write in my memoir, it’s “Route 201 gets boring fast. Don’t go there unless you’re forced to.”

I mean, it’s not like fighting the wild Pokémon poses much challenge for Empress. Sure, some of the Bidoofs might be rabid . . . good thing I haven’t come across any of those yet. I’m not really sure how lethal Piplups are. Hey, that gives me an idea! I can catch a rabid Bidoof and use its infecting powers to easily take out my opponents! It’s genius! It’s . . . whoa, I’m getting too carried away. It’s not like I’m a trainer for more than money. But still, it’s an awesome idea.

For whatever reason, Lucas is waiting for me in front of the lab again. Oh, and so is Jake. “What do you want now?” I ask. “We got our licenses and Pokédexes, so you can quit messing with me.” Yeah, I mean “me”, not “us”. For all I care, Jake and Dork-O are BFFs 5ever or something. Okay, maybe I do care a little. You try sharing your best friend with someone you hate.

“Well, we need to go over travel groups,” Lucas says. “I’ve been Rowan’s assistant for a while, so I got my Pokémon early, and I have permission to travel by myself.”

“Aren’t you a special snowflake,” I say in disgust. “What are you even doing besides bragging about **** nobody cares about?”

“Well . . . I’m just saying maybe you two should be travel partners,” Dork-O replies. Uh, that would mean that I’d need to go on a journey. And right now, I see a way out of it.

“Hey, if you want to travel with Jake, I’m not stopping you,” I say. “You guys can go off on your magical journey full of sparkly Pokémon companionship, and I’ll stay here and be on Pokémon patrol or something.” Hey, don’t judge me! Pokémon patrol’s a legit job, and a pretty risky job at that. Keeping hostile Pokémon from attacking cities and towns . . . it’s like being a superhero, but more plausible.

“There’s only one problem with that,” Jake says. “To be on Pokémon patrol, you need gym badges.” Dammit! Why does every person in Sinnoh assume that every kid wants to be the League Champion? Okay, I’ll admit it, I did once. But that was when I was six! “

Okay, okay, you got me,” I snap. “How about we work something out here: I’ll be Jake’s travel partner up until Veilstone City. That place isn’t too far away. There, I do a little tag-team thing and the dork here becomes Jake’s partner for the rest of the journey. Meanwhile, I stay in Veilstone, get a job at the Department Store, and learn the finer details of how to go about being a mall tycoon.” Sure, the guys at the store might be pissed when I leave and basically make a rival store, but oh well. **** like that happens all the time.

“All right, let’s get going to Route 202.” Lucas starts herding us that way. Jeez, he seriously needs to quit following us around! He’s not in the travel group yet. “I want to show you how to catch a Pokémon.” Okay, everyone really does think we’re total noobs. I’ve passed by countless people catching Pokémon on Route 201, so I know what to do.

In short, Lucas’ explanation is extremely dorky, so I’ll leave that out. A Bidoof crosses his path, and he sends his Chimchar out to attack it. Then, Lucas throws a Poké Ball and catches it. He goes on this huge tirade about how you should weaken the Pokémon as much as you can before you catch it and then gives us five Poké Balls apiece.

“Huh,” I say, staring down at the metal spheres. Whatever. I toss them in my backpack . . . but maybe I should be a little more careful. Those Poké Balls might try to catch my backpack or something.

When I look up again, Lucas is gone. I can’t say I miss him. What? Isn’t being honest a good thing?

Okay, now I’m seriously getting annoyed. Jake shouts “Come on!” and drags me along. All because of that stupid race we’re having with Lucas. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I said I’d try to win the race since I can’t be beaten by Dork-O, but I shouldn’t even be competing with him in the first place.

“Got it. Just quit dragging me!” I snap. Has it ever occurred to him that maybe people don’t like being forced to do things they don’t want to? Apparently, it hasn’t. One of these days, I’ll have to knock some sense into him.

We trudge down Route 202—or at least I trudge. Jake’s acting like it’s the best day of his life, running way ahead of me. Suddenly, I bump into him. “What’s going on?” I ask.

“That.” Jake points in front of him, where some chick is standing in our way. Oh you trainers. Do they have anything better to do besides be roadblocks?

The girl puts her hands on her hips. “I challenge you to a battle!”

Jake jumps the gun and pulls his Poké Ball out. All I have to do is ditch and get out of here. But then the girl says, “Not you. I’m challenging that frowny girl over there!”

FROWNY GIRL?! I’m fine with unflattering descriptions of me, but stupid ones? No way! Okay, it is on.

The chick sends out a Bidoof. Lame. Arceus knows I’ve fought enough of those things today. It’s not even a rabid one! Double lame.

“Empress, Pound!” I yell. She leaps into action, flying (well, as good as a Piplup can fly anyways) at the Bidoof.

“Tackle!” Random Chick shrieks. Bidoof flies at Empress, too. They crash into each other midair and fall in a patch of grass. I wince. Hopefully, Empress is stronger (or just has a harder head). Sure enough, I see her blue head pop up.

“Go for the win!” I shout. “Do a piledriver!” Instantly, Empress leaps up and slams onto the Bidoof. The rat-beaver Pokémon squeaks. I don’t know if that means it’s going to faint or it’s still fighting, so I get Empress to keep attacking.

In the end, Random Chick just recalls her Pokémon. As per requirement, she hands me some cash, glowering the entire time. “Jeez, calm down,” I tell her. “It’s just a battle, quit giving me the evil eye!” Besides, she started it.

“Did you really have to do that?” Jake asks. I don’t talk to him back—shoving him into the tall grass works perfectly fine. It’s just his luck that he ends up disturbing a wild Starly. The tiny bird screeches and swoops, trying to claw his eyes out. Fortunately, its tiny claws bounce off Jake’s glasses. The Starly circles above his head, giving Jake enough time to send out his Turtwig.

“Tackle!” he commands. “Wait until it comes low!” Sure enough, the Starly swoops for Turtwig, beak out, ready for the peck. Despite his heavy shell, Turwig just jumps on it. Why does every battle we get in involve landing on the other Pokémon?

Starly tries to get up, but it’s a no-go. Turtwig’s just way too heavy for it to happen. Meanwhile, Jake has time to act. He observes the scene, then pulls out his Pokédex and looks through it. Finally, he figures out something. “Turtwig, Bite!”

The turtle Pokémon opens its massive yellow jaw and chomps down on the Starly, nomming on its head. Seriously. There’s no other way to describe it. Okay, maybe there is, but any other way wouldn’t have the same effect.

“And now . . .” Jake pulls out a Poké Ball and throws it, hitting the Starly dead-center on that white circle on its breast. The ball shakes three times and then stops, and then Jake picks it up. Oh, right. We’re supposed to catch Pokémon. I’m on it! I just need to wait for a rabid Bidoof to pop up.

Some kid challenges Jake, and I kinda sneak ahead to do something. A Bidoof jumps out of the grass and charges at me, and I recognize it as a rabid one. Awesome. I release my Pokémon, yelling, “Empress, use Bubble! Don’t get too close!” Empress spits out a stream of bubbles that float toward the Bidoof and pop. Somehow, that hurts it slightly. Don’t ask me, I really don’t want to know how.

Bidoof charges at Empress, trying to bite her or get foaming rabid mouth drool on her or something. She immediately gets out of the way and fires another stream of bubbles. This doesn’t deter the Bidoof—it charges again! Empress just rinses and repeats, and so does the Bidoof. This happens over and over and over again.

Eventually, it gets to the point where both Pokémon are tired and about to drop. Well, at least Empress is, and Bidoof’s still going after her! “Aw, screw this,” I say, taking a Poké Ball out and throwing it at the Bidoof. Somehow, I manage to catch it. AWW YEAH. I have a rabid Bidoof now! With it’s rabies powers, I can destroy enemy Pokémon . . .

“Nice catch!” Jake calls. I turn around and notice him just standing there. “Was that Bidoof rabid?”

“When did you get here?” I ask, changing the subject. I don’t want him turning me in for exploiting rabies.

“That battle took a while, so I just stood here and watched,” Jake replies. He’s right. I look up and see that the sun’s going down.

“All right, then we better get to Jubilife before we get caught out here at night,” I say.

With that, we run the rest of the way to the city, which isn’t too far. Once again, Lucas is waiting for us at the entrance to the city. “Hey!” he calls out. “How many Pokémon did you guys catch?”

“One each,” I reply curtly.

“Huh? Only one each? I really think you two should catch some more Pokémon,” he replies. “The more Pokémon you have, the happier you’ll be.” I beg to differ. The more Pokémon you have, the more overpowered animals you have to feed, take care of, and clean up after. “Hey, that’s right, don’t you want to—”

“Leave us alone, we’re going to the Pokémon Center,” I say, shoving past him with Jake in tow. Fortunately for us, the Pokémon Center’s only a couple of blocks away. Unfortunately for us, Jubilife’s one of the larger cities, and the lines are almost as long as the lines in Hearthome. So to save more ground, we decide to split up. I take our Poké Balls and line up for the healing machine. Jake leaves to get us a room.

When I get my Pokémon healed, the nurse says, “Oh, one of your Pokémon had rabies. Fortunately, the machine was able to heal it.”

My hands shake, and I almost drop the Poké Balls on the counter. “OH **** YOU.”

Author's Note: The travelling and battles are short as a reference to how fast I do that stuff in the game and Mary's disinterest in it.

Uh . . . hi everybody. This is just little update on the story . . . I actually stopped playing Platinum for a while, so that's why I haven't worked on the chapters. I'm probably going to play the game up to Eterna or something and then type up the story. (I'm not even in Jubilife yet!)